


Wherever I Find Myself

by louise_lux



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: After the journey, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 09:12:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louise_lux/pseuds/louise_lux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This place is a dump," Gojyo said, looking around.</p><p>He wasn't wrong. The unmistakable smell of mould curled through the rooms. The floorboards creaked and groaned under every step. The kitchen had been ransacked. Every pot and pan and plate—some of them still containing dried crusts of what had once presumably been food—had been pulled from the tables and cupboards and onto the floor. Clothes were flung about the bedroom; they lay collapsed on the rotting rugs like dead bodies, all covered in dust.</p><p>The owner, Mr Chan, stood next to Hakkai. He had a sooty black mole on his bald head. It wasn't a youkai mark. "The last people left in a hurry. I couldn't find any one to rent during the—bad time." He darted his gaze away from Hakkai and fixed it on the mess on the floor.</p><p>"It'll take a lot of cleaning," Hakkai said. "I like it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wherever I Find Myself

"This place is a dump," Gojyo said, looking around.

He wasn't wrong. The unmistakable smell of mould curled through the rooms. The floorboards creaked and groaned under every step. The kitchen had been ransacked. Every pot and pan and plate—some of them still containing dried crusts of what had once presumably been food—had been pulled from the tables and cupboards and onto the floor. Clothes were flung about the bedroom; they lay collapsed on the rotting rugs like dead bodies, all covered in dust.

The owner, Mr Chan, stood next to Hakkai. He had a sooty black mole on his bald head. It wasn't a youkai mark. "The last people left in a hurry. I couldn't find any one to rent during the—bad time." He darted his gaze away from Hakkai and fixed it on the mess on the floor.

"It'll take a lot of cleaning," Hakkai said. "I like it."

"Hakkai, it's a pit," said Gojyo.

"So was your house until I moved in," Hakkai said.

"Right," said Gojyo, and sighed. His hair had grown long, hanging in ragged strands down his back. It needed trimming. It swung as he turned his head, a flash of colour like the only living thing in the house. "But this place… " He stopped, and shrugged. 

"It's within our budget," Hakkai said. "Gojyo."

Mr Chan cleared his throat and cast a glance at Gojyo, and then at Hakkai. "I'll let you—gentleman—have some time to decide," he said. The door thunked behind him as he walked out, and it let in a waft of green scented air. The garden was overgrown but the soil looked good and dark.

Gojyo stuck his hands in his pockets and kicked at a pile of newspapers. There were threads of silver in with the red, just recently. Neither of them could be properly thought of as old, though. It was the fault of the life they'd led. They needed a new one. This house could be the beginning.

"Gojyo, let's take it," Hakkai said, coming to stand close by him. "We do need somewhere to live."

"Yeah, but this dump? Seriously?"

"The garden is good. There are woods at the back. Let's go and look."

They walked out into the garden. There was a narrow stone path that curled through the thicket of birches and brambles like a trace of a forgotten civilisation. At the foot of the garden stood a cherry tree, its branches black and bare and wreathed with blackberry thorns. Hakkai tried desperately to not notice any symbolism.

Someone had tried to make a life here once, but it hadn't lasted. The woods stood like a dark wall behind the house and seemed to almost muffle any sounds. There was only a faint clop of a mule and cart going by on the road. Really, it was just like Gojyo's old house.

"I guess it's in a good place," Gojyo said, finally, nodding. "Yeah."

"And it's miles away from the temple. Much further than our old home."

Gojyo's lips curled in a little smile. Hakkai was glad to see it. Gojyo had been short on smiles ever since they'd reached Chang'An. Ever since they'd been able to finally contemplate getting on with the rest of their lives. "That's another good thing about this dump, then."

"So shall we take it?"

Gojyo shot him a quick glance, guarded and speculative. "I dunno."

"What else are we going to do?" Hakkai said. "It's cheap. We can afford it. Together."

Gojyo looked at Hakkai properly for the first time since they'd found the notice down in the market place. He sighed and shook his head. "Yeah. Okay. Let's do it."

***

 

They paid a deposit to Mr Chen outright from their savings that afternoon, then went back the next morning to empty the house.

There was nothing worth saving apart from a wooden bed frame.

"Did they build the house around it?" Gojyo said, kicking it.

It was made of some hard, dark wood and it was almost too heavy to lift, even with both of them, so they left it where it was. It sat, squat and solid, in what had no option but to be the bedroom. The mattress was stained in disturbing ways, so they dragged it outside and burned it.

It took them half a day to empty the house. It took them another half to burn the contents. In the late afternoon, smelling of dust and smoke, they took Hakuryuu into town and bought a broom, detergent, a bucket and a mop and lots of cleaning rags. Gojyo complained that none of it was beer or cigarettes.

"Cleaning can be fun," Hakkai said, and Gojyo looked at him, aghast, until Hakkai laughed. "It's a matter of creating order from chaos."

Gojyo lifted an eyebrow. "What's wrong with chaos? I'd rather be in the bar," he said.

Mr Chen was letting them stay in his spare room until they were done. It was behind the kitchen where Mrs Chen lurked all day, either cooking, or eating or sitting in her rocking chair smoking cigarette after cigarette and glaring at Hakkai and Gojyo as if she were sizing them up for dinner. The room looked very much like it had once been a pantry. There was a tiny window decorated with lot of cobwebs, and some old cardboard boxes full of tins.

"These must have been their emergency supplies," Hakkai said.

No one needed things like that anymore. Well, not much. The Minus Wave madness had ended, mostly, when Goku and Sanzo had blown Houtou into tiny fragments. But the wave had been dying out even before then, as if the power were losing its heart.

They slept the first night rolled up side by side in their old camping blankets, the same ones that they'd used on the road. They smelled like it too, a mixture of crushed earth, dirty hair and blood. With that familiar smell around him and with Gojyo next to him, Hakkai slept like the dead.

"Hey," Gojyo said, the next morning. He was leaning over Hakkai, half out of his blanket. His hair fell down across around his bare shoulders and the tip of one strand brushed Hakkai's cheek. He was looking worried.

"What time is it?" Hakkai croaked.

"Time you woke up. You were saying shit in your sleep."

Hakkai stared up at him. The strand of hair slipped away, a brief feathery touch. "Was I? What?" His head felt thick, and his muscles ached. Had he dreamed? He couldn't remember. He stared up at Gojyo. Beyond him was the concrete ceiling, lined with cracks just like the one in Gojyo's old house. Gojyo's hair still smelled of woodsmoke. "I almost forgot we were back," he said. "I thought perhaps we were in some barn in India, preparing to get up and fight."

Gojyo's left eyebrow quirked and he sat up, yawning massively, stretching out his arms. The muscles in his back moved under his skin, almost snakelike. "Yeah, it's weird isn't it? I keep thinking Sanzo's gonna kick the door in and yell at us."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Hakkai said, and Gojyo laughed out loud. It was a good sound.

"Are we gonna give him our new address?"

"I suppose we'll have to. Goku will probably find us by smell anyway."

"Hell, yeah. He could, too."

Hakkai closed his eyes for a moment, wondering how on earth they were going to manage now without their primary purpose of being Sanzo's personal army of three. Well, there was the house to clean.

"Let's get out of here," Gojyo said, unwinding himself from his blankets and pulling on his jeans. "I can't bring myself to crap in Mrs Chen's toilet. She's kinda scary."

Through the thin door, Mrs Chen began to rattle her pans, and the mingled smell of cigarettes, tea and frying noodles began to waft under the door.

Their new house was much better for their cleaning. They washed the mildew off the walls, washed the grime from the windows, swept and washed the creaky wooden floors until they were clean, then they let the house stand with its doors and windows open to let everything dry. They sat on the steps and ate the meatbuns they'd bought for lunch with an early spring breeze buffeting them. The air was still tinged with the burnt wood scent from the fire. Gojyo walked over to kick at the embers and sent up a little cloud of dim orange sparks.

"That was someone's entire life," he said. "Weird."

"They couldn't have wanted it much to leave it behind."

"Maybe they didn't want to leave," Gojyo said. They looked at each other.

"Sadly, that's probably the case."

"Well anyway. You could grow some vegetables there," Gojyo said, pointing with his post lunch cigarette.

"Why there?"

"Ashes from a fire make good fertilizer."

"I'm not sure that applies if the fire was made of old mattresses and clothes."

"Oh. Maybe that's right."

On the cherry tree, a small crowed of long tailed birds cheeped and chirped, fluttering around each other.

"What was I saying in my sleep, Gojyo? You didn't tell me."

Gojyo dragged on his cigarette. "Can't remember now."

Hakkai mostly knew when Gojyo was lying. This was certainly one of those times. Hakkai let it go. After lunch they took Jeep into town again.

"What colour d'you want?" Gojyo said, as they stood in the ironmonger's shop.

"Hmmm. I don't mind. Something calming."

"This stuff is cheap," Gojyo said, picking up a can of paint that looked to be very pale blue, like the top of the sky on the hottest day of the summer. It made him shiver.

"Perhaps we should go for white," Hakkai said.

"You seriously want the place to look like Sanzo's temple?" Gojyo said.

"There won't be any monks, so it will be quite different," Hakkai said.

Gojyo sighed but he picked up four tins and lugged them to the tills. Then he carried it all out to Hakuryuu, pushing Hakkai's hand away when he attempted to carry one himself. It was one of his many strange, stubborn kindnesses. Hakkai followed him out to the car, smiling at Gojyo behind his back.

As they drove back with the paint he only noticed he was driving much too fast when Gojyo elbowed him.

"Slow down! I thought you were gonna put us in the ditch. Are you okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine."

A man with a cart stared at them open-mouthed as they sped past. Gojyo waved at him.

"Look at that old guy. I bet they don't get too many strangers these days."

"We're not strangers, Gojyo. We're both from around here."

It was true. The village he'd settled in with Kanan was three valleys over. He knew that Gojyo had been born in a town perhaps only thirty miles away.

Gojyo put his boots up on Jeep's dashboard and leaned his head back on the seat. His throat made a long line, leading down to where his shirt hung open. The wind blew his hair in a red storm around his head. He looked sleek and dangerous, and not at all like he came from a backwater river town. "Yeah. But we don't belong here," he said.

"If you're referring to what the Merciful Goddess revealed to us about our past lives…"

"Nah, not me," Gojyo said. "I don't give a crap about all that shit."

But Hakkai caught the odd, sliding-away glance Gojyo gave him.

"It does seem very strange," Hakkai said mildly. "Thinking about it. The four of us being in Heaven."

Some of the things Kanzeon had told them about the marshal and the general had been interesting, to say the least. He and Gojyo hadn't spoken of it, only partly because they had been busy trying not to die. Gojyo grunted and said nothing else, and spent the remaining journey trying and failing to light a cigarette in his palm, against the buffeting of the wind.

That evening they sat on their blankets in Mr Chen's spare room. Mrs Chen retired very early and she didn't want any noise.

"I'm not going to miss that crabby old bat," Gojyo said.

"You certainly won't miss her; she's going to be our neighbour after all," said Hakkai, and Gojyo laughed.

"Hey, so. I've been thinking about the house. We're gonna need guttering, tiles for the roof, wood to make new steps. Who's gonna pay for all this? Not counting all the furniture we ain't got."

"Sanzo, of course."

Gojyo narrowed his eyes. "How? I don't want to go back to being his bitch."

"That's almost unavoidable, I'm afraid. But look at this."

Hakkai reached for their notebook and showed Gojyo his calculations. "Ten years of backdated unpaid salary at, let's say minimum wage to be fair, plus pension, ongoing healthcare costs, holiday pay—backdated to the beginning of service—It's more than enough to cover our expenses. For a very long time." He smiled, and Gojyo stared at him then fell over backwards, laughing.

"Hahaha! Awesome!"

***

 

Sanzo's heart was not made entirely of stone, it turned out, but of gold too.

"You earned it," he said, and stamped their chit with an approved mark in bright shiny red ink. He examined the result with a pleased air, holding it to the light for a moment.

"Where on earth is Goku?" Hakkai asked.

"Yeah, where the hell is the little tick? I hate to say it but I'm kind of missing him."

Sanzo gave them a shifty look. "He's in training."

"Training?" Hakkai said. "For what?"

"He wants to be a sanzo," Sanzo said.

"What the hell for?" said Gojyo. "That job sucks."

"For once you said something that makes sense," said Sanzo. He folded his arms and sat back in his chair. His feet were wrapped in thick black woollen socks. "What are you two doing?"

Hakkai opened his mouth, then closed it. He wasn't sure.

"We're fixing up our new house," Gojyo said, simply.

***

 

Hakkai had some odd moments as they worked on their house together. He'd find himself with his paintbrush raised, letting cool lines of paint run down under his cuff, then he'd realise that he was staring at Gojyo through the window, watching him saw planks or chop wood or cut tiles or whatever he happened to be doing, nearly always shirtlessly.

They'd been lovers in some other, unremembered, existence. The knowledge hadn't surprised him, if he was honest. He wondered if it had surprised Gojyo.

Hakkai had tried to cast his mind back, to find a remnant of those memories, some clue, anything, but nothing ever came. There were simply the stories the Bosatsu had told them. They were gods come to earth, Kanzeon had said, as atonement for past sins in Heaven. They had simply managed to sin some more, Hakkai thought, and jabbed at the wall with his brush, slopping white paint across his hand.

"Bother," he said.

Hakkai looked down at his own paint-splattered hand and the blue veins on the back, at the grime under his nails and the frayed cuff of his shirt. They weren't gods any more; they were most decidedly mortal.

By the end of the fifth day, Hakkai had painted the kitchen and the living room and the bathroom, and Gojyo had fixed the holes in the roof.

Gojyo came to find him as the sun set. It was sending pink-orange slices of light across the new white walls in the kitchen. Hakuryuu was sitting in the old stone sink, licking at the drip of cold water from the tap.

"It looks pretty," Gojyo said. He had his hair tied back with a rag, and there were smudges of dust across his chest. "Shame we've got no furniture."

"We could buy some tomorrow, I thought."

"Sounds good."

"Before that we could both do with a bath and a decent night's sleep in a proper bed," Hakkai said.

Gojyo's gaze slid away. "Yeah," he said.

"But for now we are in the tender care of Mrs Chen."

Gojyo grinned. "That old bat was never tender. Like her meat stew."

"Now, Gojyo. You shouldn't disrespect our hosts. It won't be for very much longer."

Mrs Chen allowed them to use her tin bath in the back yard, and the use of two small, dingy, rough towels. It was far better than nothing.

They drove Jeep out to the city two days later. The house was as ready as they could make it. The rooms were fresh and bright and clean. Gojyo had taken the doors off their hinges and had planed and sanded the edges. He'd waxed the window cords, fitted the guttering and had rigged up an electricity supply that he swore was safe.

"How did you learn to do all that?" Hakkai asked him as they drove.

He shrugged. "Just picked a lot of it up. I like making things work right. Banri trained to be a house builder back in the days when he actually gave a shit."

"You're very clever."

"It's nothing," Gojyo said.

When he looked over, Gojyo's cheeks were tinged with red, as if no one had ever said that to him before. Hakkai thought back, assessing Gojyo's behaviour to date. It struck him as a real possibility.

There was a furniture market on Saturdays. It was right next to the cattle market. The air was thick with the smell of pigs and cattle and cheap noodles.

They walked around the stalls and together chose two chairs and a table, two lamps, a large cupboard made of pine with enough room for their meagre amount of clothes, a brand new settee that still had its plastic cover, a new mattress, a set of bookshelves and a clock. They piled half of it in Hakuryuu, who squeaked his annoyance. The rest was to be delivered.

Hakkai left Gojyo at one of the bars after lunch. He bought two woollen rugs, several sets of curtains, towels, bed linen, an apron and a tablecloth.

"We really do have nothing," he said to Hakuryuu, as he piled everything inside. He went back to the market again with his depleted wallet and bought two pans, a kettle, two bowls, plates and cups, two sets of cutlery, a teapot and cups, a sieve, a mixing bowl, a set of knives and a chopping board. He packed it into the car and sat down to wait for Gojyo.

He woke to find Gojyo shaking his shoulder: "Hey, wake up, Sleeping Beauty."

"I wouldn't expect you to know that fairy tale," Hakkai said, rubbing his eyes.

"The nuns read it to us at the orphanage."

"I didn't know you were in an orphanage," Hakkai said, staring up at him.

Gojyo smiled at him. "I wasn't, not for very long."

"You ran away?"

Gojyo climbed in next to him, stretching his long legs out as much as he could. He yawned, and Hakkai dragged his gaze away from the slim, muscled curve of Gojyo's thigh. "Three times, and the last time was when I met Banri."

Hakkai started the engine and put Hakuryuu into gear. "Are you ready to go home?"

"Home. That's a weird thought," Gojyo said, and they both laughed.

It didn't take long to put everything into the house. Two elderly men in a cart brought the cupboard and the mattress. Gojyo wouldn't let them help even though they yelled at him they weren't past it.

Hakkai made the bed. Gojyo disappeared somewhere.

There was only one bed, and they hadn't bought another even though they could just about afford one. Gojyo hadn't suggested it and neither had Hakkai. Hakkai tucked in the new sheets, making the corners square and smooth. A pillow each. Another sheet. A warm blanket on top.

Hakkai sat on the edge of the mattress and bounced, listening to the rapid thud thud of his heart. It was a large bed, and the mattress was a good one. He and Gojyo would lie on it tonight, together. They could lie further apart than in Mrs Chen's back room if they chose. He closed his eyes and imagined Gojyo next to him between the clean sheets.

He hung his head and smiled at himself, and wondered how Field Marshal Tenpou had gone about seducing General Kenren. Or had it been the other way around? Who would ever know?

***

 

Gojyo came back much later, when Hakkai's travel alarm clock read 5.28am. The sun was only just rising, a pale greyness in the east that the curtains mostly shut out. Hakkai put his book aside and yawned and listened to Gojyo moving about. 

There was the thump of his jacket on a chair in the kitchen, the thud of his boots on the floor, sounds of metal clinking on porcelain as Gojyo picked at the dinner Hakkai had left him, then the sound of toilet flushing, teeth brushing, the soft scuff of his feet on boards as he came into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He took his clothes off and dropped them on the floor next to the bed. Hakkai watched, and kept on watching until Gojyo turned and saw him. The light fell on his eyes, making them glimmer in the dark. Hakkai could make out the outline of his hair where it hung over his shoulders.

"You're awake," Gojyo said.

"I know," said Hakkai.

"It's just like the old days," Gojyo said, and climbed in besides him. "You lying awake all night. Fun times." The bedframe creaked as he settled down, and under the sheets his warmth spread across the distance between them.

Hakkai closed his eyes. How he wanted to touch him, to hold him for once not because he was wounded but just for the pleasure of it. Hakkai had only ever slept with Kanan. The thought bothered him more than he liked.

"It's the same," Hakkai agreed. "Even down to you staying out all night."

Gojyo sighed, then yawned. He smelled of toothpaste, not of beer. He didn't smell at all of perfume. Hakkai turned his head and inhaled; Gojyo's hair smelled familiar. It took him a few moments to identify it as the incense that they used up at Sanzo's temple. He opened his eyes to see Gojyo watching him.

"Where did you go?" Hakkai asked.

"I went up to see those three freaky giant heads," Gojyo said. In the dark his eyes were a uniform black.

"Why on earth did you do that?"

His sharp exhale was like a hiss. "To see if Kanzeon was messin' with us about all that stuff. The past life."

"Oh. I thought you 'didn't give a crap about all that shit'?"

Gojyo turned on his back and put his hand over his eyes. "Yeah, well. It turns out I did after all."

Hakkai watched him, feeling as if they were sliding out into dark unexplored waters. "What did they tell you?" he said.

Gojyo shook his head. "Shit. I didn't even need to ask them."

"You didn't?"

"When you were talking in your sleep… Ah, shit. You called me Kenren. General. It ain't the only time."

"I don't remember doing that," Hakkai said.

"I know you don't," Gojyo said. His voice was flat and quiet. "Just like I don't remember anything about the person I used to be."

"Isn't it better that way? I hardly need more memories than the ones I already have."

Gojyo grunted and said nothing. The birds were waking up outside, and Hakkai wished for earplugs. The space between them was filled with the warmth of their bodies and what seemed like an acre of clean, new sheets.

He pulled the blanket up over them and waited until Gojyo had fallen asleep before closing his own eyes.

***

 

He woke to pale sunshine, and to find himself much closer to Gojyo than he had been when he'd fallen asleep, so near now that he was pressed against Gojyo's side. Gojyo's hair spilled over his bare shoulders and across his neck, giving the illusion that his throat had been cut. Hakkai moved the strands away carefully, leaving it bare and exposed. That was better. He stared at Gojyo's jaw. It was odd how Gojyo's beard grew in black. He propped himself on one elbow and studied Gojyo's bare chest, his slightly open mouth, the spiky black lashes. It was a face so familiar to him, like looking at himself in a mirror.

He imagined the General in Heaven; knowing Gojyo, he had probably been appallingly insubordinate. He looked at Gojyo's jaw, the almost stubborn jut of it. But he had been loyal too. Loyal to the end.

Why had Kanzeon told them anything? What was the point?

The birds were still noisy outside, although this time it seemed to be just one making a loud monotonous cheeping sound. The room smelled of a mixture of new paint, the new pine cupboard, and them.

Gojyo opened his eyes and looked at him, slow lidded, completely awake. Hakkai's breath caught in his throat.

The silence between them was fathomless.

Gojyo shifted his arm until it slid around Hakkai's shoulders, his thumb sliding across the back of Hakkai's neck, pulling him closer and down. They seemed to breathe together until their lips met— Gojyo's lips were hot, the touch of his tongue cool. They kissed, barely moving, until Hakkai wondered if he should pull away. Then Gojyo groaned and rolled them over until he was on top, pressing Hakkai into the bed, the hard angles of his hips digging into Hakkai's body.

All the air in Hakkai's lungs had vanished, replaced with a sort of empty gasping against Gojyo's mouth. He put his hands on Gojyo's shoulders, the hot smooth skin there tightening as his muscles bunched. Hakkai stared up at him, eyes wide. Gojyo had his eyes open too.

Gojyo was flushing red, his lips glistening and pink, his hair a tangle all around them. The girls he'd had must have seen him like this. Hakkai never had, until now. He groaned when Gojyo's mouth left his.

"They did this together," Gojyo said, knitting his brows together. He sounded quite desperate. His hardness pressed through his thin sweatpants, right there against Hakkai's left thigh. "They did this, right?"

"Our past selves?" Hakkai said.

"Yeah," Gojyo said, "them."

He shoved Hakkai's hair back from his forehead, studied his face, then kissed him again, longer and deeper. He was clever with his tongue and his teeth, unexpectedly delicate with his kisses, pressing them to Hakkai's jaw and down to his throat. Gojyo began to move his hips, and it was dizzying. Between their bare chests a layer of sweat was building, making their skin slick. Gojyo's nipples were hard.

Hakkai tightened his hands on Gojyo's shoulders and pushed him back, holding him away enough to see into his face. It was startlingly easy, and Gojyo's eyes went wide.

"They were lovers," he said. "But it doesn't mean we have to be lovers."

Gojyo braced his hands on the pillow, breathing fast. The low slung waistband had worked its way down further so that the sharp bumps of his hips were exposed, and so was the trail of dark hair leading down his stomach. "You wanna stop?"

Hakkai shook his head. Something that looked a lot like relief passed over Gojyo's face.

He pulled Gojyo down to him once more, running his hands down Gojyo's sides to his hips, then round over his ass. Gojyo moaned into his mouth and pushed against him with his hips. Hakkai squeezed, and Gojyo moaned again, higher.

The room was light enough to see everything now.

"Can we get undressed?" Hakkai asked.

"Yeah," Gojyo said, softly, staring down at him.

He let Hakkai off the bed, then perched on the edge watching as Hakkai took off his pyjamas and his t-shirt. That part felt almost normal, except that Hakkai's hands were shaking and Gojyo had a palm cupped over his own erection.

"I know you haven't fucked around in a long time," Gojyo began. He shifted his glance away. "I mean… "

Hakkai frowned. "It hasn't actually been 500 years, Gojyo."

"Heh. Okay."

Hakkai paused in taking his t-shirt off. "How do you know I haven't?"

Gojyo sucked on his bottom lip, then ducked his head so that his hair fell over his eyes. He looked almost guilty. Hakkai's heart seemed to squeeze, just a little. "I just know you."

He fell quiet when Hakkai was finally naked, then stared at him, gaze moving up and down Hakkai's body. He reached out to clasp Hakkai's wrist and pulled him back to the bed.

Gojyo was beautiful. His hair spread out in a fan across the pillow, just the same way that Kanan's used to. Hakkai cupped his jaw and kissed him, breathing in the little moan Gojyo made. Thoughts of Tenpou and Kenren flooded his mind. Were they the cause of this, fated to always be lovers? He pushed the idea away. It was easy, admittedly. Gojyo's cock pressed hard against his belly, hot and thick, and his teeth were sharp where they scraped across Hakkai's jaw. When Hakkai pushed down against him Gojyo shifted, moving his thighs so that they slid against Hakkai's sides.

He reached down and closed his hand around Gojyo's cock. He looked at it in his palm, at the slick head as he rubbed around it with his thumb. Gojyo breathed his name and ran his hands down over Hakkai's back, long fingers skimming over his body. It made the hair rise on Hakkai's arm and neck. His ears felt hot and his limiters too tight.

"You once said you'd never take a man to bed again," Hakkai said, lifting his head to look at him. He moved his hand, studying the curve of Gojyo's lips and the way they fell apart when Hakkai reached down to stroke over his balls and inner thighs.

Gojyo shook his head on the pillow and pulled his brows together. "Huh?" Recollection seemed to dawn, along with a slow smile. "Guess I lied about that." He swallowed hard, and then reached out and closed his fist around Hakkai's erection. He shut his eyes tight.

"Fuck, that feels good," he hissed.

Hakkai dragged him into a kiss. Gojyo rolled them over again, fast and hard, pushing his tongue deep into Hakkai's mouth. Hakkai let himself be pinned as Gojyo rocked against him and thrust into Hakkai's hand, one hand flat on the pillow next to Hakkai's head, the other wrapped around Hakkai's cock. Heat grew in the places where they touched. Hakkai cupped the back of Gojyo's neck, sliding his hand under the curtain of hair. It was damp with sweat, with his heat.

Gojyo groaned and pressed their foreheads together. Hakkai's body was tightening. Pleasure ran through him, building in tremors through all of his muscles. He abandoned all attempts at reciprocating as Gojyo stroked him faster and more desperately, his knuckles digging into Hakkai's stomach right over the knot of scar tissue. Instead he clung on to Gojyo's neck and arched and heard his own high moans filling the room as he came.

"Oh, fuck," Gojyo said. "Hakkai. Come on. Give it me. Come on." He said Hakkai's name again, then again, harsh and low, then he came over Hakkai's stomach, his cock jerking hard, grinding down against Hakkai's body.

They stayed pressed together, with Gojyo crouched over him. Hakkai didn't want to let go but eventually he unwound his arms from around Gojyo's neck. He breathed in the scent of Gojyo's hair and skin. He smelled so good, so familiar and yet different. Hakkai reached down and touched the sticky mess between them.

"That feels pretty gross," Gojyo mumbled. Then he said, then more quietly: "It's the only bad thing about it though."

He knelt back and fished on the floor for his t-shirt, then wiped Hakkai's stomach carefully, and then swiped at his own. He tossed the t-shirt back to the floor and lay down next to Hakkai, close to his side, bringing the blankets with him. After a barely noticeable hesitation he put his arm over Hakkai's chest. The weight of it felt pleasant, just as if it had always belonged there.

He turned his head on the pillow to look at Gojyo, who was curled in towards him, warm and strong. His eyes were sleepy and red rimmed.

"Did the Three Aspects really have nothing useful to tell you?" he asked.

Gojyo was still for a moment. His breath was warm against Hakkai's ear, and it made him shiver. "No. The girly one said I should stop asking questions that don't matter, then the beardy one told me that I used to be the most irritating person in Heaven and that I basically hadn't changed."

Hakkai thought about his endless fury over beer can ashtrays. "Perhaps you were the tidy one and I was the messy one," he said. "Who knows? You might have spent your immortal existence tidying up after me."

Gojyo snorted softly. "That's crazy talk. What d'you think Sanzo was like?"

"A very bad tempered airhead."

Gojyo laughed. "What a loser."

"Goku was probably… simply Goku."

Gojyo didn't say anything, but he moved even closer and touched his lips to Hakkai's ear. Hakkai ran his palm over Gojyo's shoulder, over small silver scars that were the relics of a thousand fights. Gojyo's weight grew heavier, his breathing slower. Hakkai touched him, wanting to feel every flex of every muscle, like a hunger.

"I don't want to go back there," Gojyo said, right against his ear.

"Did they say they wanted us back?"

"No," said Gojyo. "But maybe they're fucked up enough to just yank us back there."

"That would be unacceptable," Hakkai said. He flattened his hands at the base of Gojyo's spine. Gojyo made a breathless sound. "We've just bought a house. We'd never get the deposit back. Besides, they clearly derive a lot of entertainment from watching the progress of our lives." 

Gojyo laughed, and rolled off, reaching over for his cigarettes. The old bed creaked under his weight. "Okay. We'd better give 'em something to look at then."

**Author's Note:**

> This story is for Amai Kaminari and Lechymonk, who very generously donated to the help_haiti auction back in February of 2010 and acquired my fiction writing services. Thank you very much to Emungere for beta help, and to Kate for saying encouraging things. The title is from a quite by Maya Angelou: "I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself."


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